


Who's Leaving Who?

by lost_spook



Category: Adam Adamant Lives!, The Power Game (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Crossover, Gen, Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8096563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: Colin Townley is having an unexpected last day at the Board of Exports; Georgina Jones is having an adventure as usual.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a random meme prompt.

Colin Townley had been midway through the uninspiring task of packing up his desk and not in the best of moods even before he’d been interrupted to answer a query from one of the Board members. It wasn’t improved by walking back into his soon-to-be-ex-office to find a girl in there, sitting on the desk and poking through his box of stationery and other oddments. She didn’t seem to hear him come in, so he stopped in the doorway and gave a meaningful cough.

“Oh,” she said, turning with a start. “Hi!”

“I wasn’t aware I had an appointment for –” He glanced at his watch. “– Ten fifteen?”

She laughed, not seeming to be much troubled by his glower. “Don’t worry, I haven’t got an appointment. I heard someone coming, so I nipped in here to get out of the way, but, hey, you found me.”

“You were hiding?” said Colin. He cast a nervous glance at the door, because this was turning into an irregular occurrence and even now he hardly wanted any members of the National Export Board to turn up here and find him in his office with a strange girl – a strange, beautiful blonde girl who was currently sitting on his nearly empty desk in a mini skirt and carelessly swinging her legs about. It would most certainly be used against him in some fashion, sooner or later. “Was someone bothering you?”

She bit her lip and then slid off the desk. “No, nothing like that, thank you.” She gave him a long look and then leant towards him. “You see, it’s about Mr Adamant. He came here yesterday, only he never came home again, and I think Lady Robinson had something to do with it, and I don’t care what Simms thinks! If she hasn’t done something awful to him, then where is he?”

Colin rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Mr Adamant? I think the Home Office did send someone over, but I wasn’t in yesterday. I expect Miss Weldon saw him. He could certainly hardly still be here.” He wondered irritably where Susan had got to. If she was here, he could fob this odd young lady off onto her and get on with crawling back to the Treasury in barely concealed disgrace.

“Well, where do I find Lady Robinson?”

Colin walked over hastily as the girl started idly looking over his desk again, and pulled a pile of sensitive documents from her grasp. “I’ve never heard of a Lady Robinson, at least not connected to the NEB. I suggest you leave here now and I won’t call in Special Branch. You do realise that we could probably hand you over to Intelligence for this?”

“Look, I followed Lady Robinson in here just now, and if you don’t know who she is, then she shouldn’t be here either, should she? So you probably ought to phone Special Branch before it’s too late!”

“Now, Miss –?”

“Jones. Georgina Jones.” She held out a hand and beamed at him. It was dazzling enough that he could have done with sunglasses to ward off the effects. “ _Please_ say you’ll help! You must have heard of Mr Adamant and you’ll know he’s not a spy, so you will, won’t you?”

Colin relented. She was, after all, the least likely infiltrator he’d ever seen, and even if she was one, not a very secret one. “The thing is, Miss Jones, I’m somewhat out of the loop – you need to speak to Miss Weldon. I’m due to move over to the Treasury by the end of the afternoon.”

“Oh dear,” she said. Evidently something of his mood had shown too clearly in his tone. “Don’t you want to go?”

Colin ignored her, crossing to the window, in the hope of seeing Susan Weldon on her way back in. What he saw instead made him pull back from the window in dismay. If there was one person in particular he didn’t want to walk in on this scene, it was Caswell Bligh. And the person who had walked in through the door of the Export Board a few seconds ago was unmistakably and inevitably Caswell Bligh.

Colin turned round. “Miss Jones,” he said in sudden urgency. “You need to leave now – you can wait in the outer office and I’m sure Miss Weldon will be able to deal with your problem –”

“Hey,” she said, and stood her ground, folding her arms. “This is urgent! For all we know, Mr Adamant could be dead and you don’t know what that Robinson woman is up to!”

Short of manhandling her out of there – and that would hardly improve the situation – there was nothing Colin could do. He lowered his voice, and said with increased desperation, “Miss Jones, I need to you to leave now before –”

“Ah, Colin!” said a voice from the doorway, and Caswell emerged, giving them both a wide smile. It was too late. “And, my, who’s this?”

Georgina was not in the least perturbed. She turned. “I’m Georgina Jones.” She glanced back at Colin and added helpfully, “I’m a journalist. Freelance. Here to investigate dodgy goings on at the Exports Board.”

Caswell raised his eyebrows at Colin and sucked in his breath. “Why, Colin, what _have_ you been doing? And I always thought you were such a stickler over the accounts. Just goes to show you never can tell.”

“Miss Jones is looking into the matter of an incident in the building,” said Colin. He tried to sound repressive, but these things were always water off a duck’s back to Caswell, or they certainly were when they came from Colin. “An intruder and a disappearance. Not corruption or treason for a change, so you won’t need to worry.”

Caswell did indeed seem to miss the implied insult, but the man’s eternal curiosity was clearly aroused. “Oh?” he said. “What’s it about, then? As a member of the Board, it’s my right to know, after all. Perhaps more my business than yours now, eh, Colin?”

“As I was telling Miss Jones,” said Colin blandly, “she needs to speak to Miss Weldon.”

Georgina looked from one to the other. “As long as I get to speak to someone! Really, I mean it, this is a matter of life and death! And whatever national secrets you have here could be in danger. I do wish _somebody_ would listen to me.”

“Unfortunately Miss Weldon is out,” Caswell said, with a small, deliberate smile at Colin, “and, I believe, may be some time.”

Colin stared down at the documents remaining on his desk, stifling anger, at Caswell for his interference and his insinuations, and at Susan, if she really had run off with Sir John Wilder again on Colin’s last day. It was only Caswell, he reminded himself. He’d have said the same if he’d seen Susan going out to post a letter, just to see if he could get some sort of reaction out of Colin, or even more likely, trick him into telling him where Susan actually _had_ gone.

Caswell in the meantime, turned to Georgina and directed his best smile at her. “You know, if I had a charming young lady like Miss Jones come to visit me, I wouldn’t be trying to fob her off onto my undersecretary. Still, your loss is my gain: Miss Jones, would you care to have tea – and tell me all about it?”

“Okay, then – thanks,” said Georgina, and they departed, leaving Colin feeling vaguely guilty that he hadn’t tried to stop them. Still, he thought, Miss Jones seemed capable of handling Caswell, which was more than Colin had ever been able to manage. Caswell could always outmanoeuvre him, and the same went for his great rival, Wilder. If that weren’t true, Colin wouldn’t be leaving today.

He heard a sound in the doorway, and Georgina reappeared. “Hey,” she said in a stage whisper. “I told him I’d left my scarf in here so I could nip back in. You don’t think he did it, do you?”

“No,” Colin said, and then added under his breath: “Worse luck.” He’d suspect Caswell of anything he could get away with when it came to dirty tricks in business and politics, but not murder, kidnapping or espionage. Then he had another losing wrestle with his conscience, and added, “If you need to maintain cover and interview him, make sure you ask if he’s still in touch with Mr Mosley.”

After all, if you couldn’t cause trouble when you were on the way out, when could you?


End file.
